


Directorsplaining

by fictorium



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Cat Grant records a promo spot, CatCo Worldwide Media, F/F, Femslash, One Shot, smokeball this is all your fault, supercat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 01:42:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18064181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictorium/pseuds/fictorium
Summary: Cat has to film a promo for a brand new CatCo service. It's... not going well.





	Directorsplaining

**Author's Note:**

> This is all Smokeball's fault.

Thanks for nothing, Smokeball. 

* * *

 

Kara doesn’t hate many things about her job, for all she likes to complain dramatically to Alex and Winn at every given opportunity. Those little grumbles are just what goes with pizza, or bowling, or whatever they happen to be doing on any given evening. 

No, there are only two things she hates about being Cat’s assistant: tax season and new product launches. Tax season purely because it gives Cat’s sarcasm and meaner qualities a direct focus. Kara is pretty sure that she, Kara Danvers, is on an FBI list somewhere for all the letters and emails she’s sent on Cat’s behalf to various government officials. Kara does like that Cat doesn’t dodge her responsibilities as a taxpayer, beyond a few little technicalities that protect the company and its stock price. She pays every cent she owes and doesn’t hide things away in off-shore havens like a dragon hoarding too much gold.

In the almost-two years that Kara has been an assistant, CatCo has launched four major new products. Cat doesn’t tend to involve herself with rebrands unless it’s to focus a general division or service more towards her personal brand. Already, Kara feels her irritation spike at the marketing talk. Cat Grant isn’t a brand, she’s a force of nature.

First there was the _CatCloud_ storage solution service (which the IT nerds insisted on calling _Cat-sass_ in-house, which of course became _Cat’s Ass_ , and Winn had been told to shut all that down because Kara couldn’t stop blushing). 

Then there was _CatDishes_ , the at-home meal subscription service that’s doing incredibly well despite the fact that Cat herself can’t make grilled cheese without alerting Supergirl and the fire department. It shouldn’t work, but people remember the cooking segments from Cat’s talk show, where the semi-orgasmic noises she would make over each week’s guest chef’s creations somehow created a shared delusion that she could cook. If Kara closes her eyes and concentrates she can still hear those sounds. 

The others Kara doesn’t have time to dwell on, but there’s no avoiding today’s project: recording the promo spots for their new movie and television streaming service, _CatBox_. Naturally, Cat loathes the name, but it tested through the roof and she’s not going to overlook an idiotic but paying audience. 

So it’s Friday afternoon, most of their floor has been sent home or to work in other parts of the building, and Cat’s usually immaculate office is covered in drapes and lighting rigs, lending itself to be the perfect film set. Winn is hovering by some equipment, his sole responsibility being to make sure that nothing belonging to CatCo is broken, stolen, or hacked. He doesn’t look happy about it. James had the very good sense to be out of the office today, otherwise he’d be in charge of the still photography from the shoot.

Kara knows it’s a coup to have Kathryn Bigelow directing, and that there’s some kind of friendly history between her and Cat. Sure, _CatBox_ is going to prioritise the work of female directors--to increase representation in all areas really--but there’s just a little bit of friction in the way Kathryn sighs before setting up the shots, giving orders to the crew in that calm, quiet way of hers. 

Cat, for her part, is fractious and lacking in her usual abundance of confidence. Every angle is wrong, according to her. She’s called her left side her ‘good side’ three times now, even though they all know she usually favors her right. The makeup artist is called back time and again, but then dismissed before she gets a chance to apply a single stroke of the brush. The loose curl in Cat’s hair is a style she seemed to be phasing out, but it’s back in full force today, bouncing gently every time she moves her head even an inch. 

The script is on her desk, printed in exactly the format she needs without her reading glasses, and the autocue is primed and ready. Kara has catered to every need that she can think of, from hydration to the temperature in the office, but still Cat is pacing the limited space she has like a caged version of her bigger namesakes.

Kathryn calls for another take, and the bustle clears like a wave rolling back out to sea. It’s suddenly all about Cat, in the glow of the lights and the eye of the camera, and Kara bites her lower lip because _damn_ , the woman is magnificent. Right up until she has to say the stupid name of the stupid service, because she can’t keep the little frown of displeasure from her lips when she says it. Kara is fluent in every quirk and twist of Cat’s mouth, and this one is going to get nasty unless someone intervenes.

The call for ‘cut’ comes quickly and quietly, so Kara seizes her chance. 

“Ms Grant? There’s a call for you. We need to step out so you can take it.”

Kara holds up her own cell as though it’s some kind of proof. Cat really must be in a mood because she doesn’t argue that she told Kara to hold all calls (which really means all calls unless directly related to Carter, because again, Kara is fluent in these things). Everyone else in the room is trying to melt into the woodwork, so Kara strides right past them, Cat falling right into her slipstream like she so often does. 

The nearest private space is the ensuite off Cat’s office, and Kara strides in with more confidence than she should reasonably have, given that she has no plan whatsoever. Once the door is closed behind them, Cat lets out a frustrated sigh.

“I know there’s no call. That was a surprisingly useful save.”

“What’s going wrong out there?” Kara asks, fiddling with the frame of her glasses. “You, uh, I mean you are great on film, Ms Grant. You always are. Even live, which most people can’t do well at all!”

Cat preens a little at the compliment, before waving it off and leaning against the marble countertop. This space is a sort of anteroom where spare outfits and recently fetched dry-cleaning hang on a rail, and a large chaise longue where Cat recovers from her infrequent migraines dominates the space in all its pink-velveted glory. In back is a separate bathroom with a waterfall shower that Kara has never dared to use, but has spent a truly ridiculous number of hours picturing Cat using. Not helped by the time, just a few weeks ago, when an impatient Cat summoned Kara in to find her missing towel. 

Kara had found a stack of about twelve, thrown them in Cat’s general direction, and flown around the building twelve times in a bid to calm herself down. It hadn’t been entirely successful, and it’s adding a knife-edge of tension to all the intimate moments that seem to be part of her daily life working with Cat. 

“Ms Grant?” Kara nudges again. “Is there something I should be doing to make the promo go more smoothly?”

“No, no,” Cat replies, fluttering her fingers in that dismissive way she has. “It’s not the shoot. It’s not even Kathryn, although why I’m trusting a woman who thought marrying Jim Cameron was a good idea is beyond me.”

“Then what’s getting in the way?” Kara asks. 

“It’s all in my head,” Cat groans, taking a seat on the chaise and leaning back with her eyes closed. “ _Supergirl_ has changed a lot of things. For a start, she has me all hopped up on how I’m an inspiring speaker, and my speeches have saved the city. It’s hard to channel all that noble whatever into schilling another CatCo product. And don’t get me started on the _name_...”

“Are you saying… Supergirl makes you want to be a better person? And that person doesn’t… promote things?”

Cat gives her a look that’s somewhere between acid reflux and _can you believe I caught feelings_? Kara winces in sympathy.

“I suppose, yes, that it’s causing me some trouble on the sincerity front. I’m trying to just think about the bottom line, but I’m not Maxwell Lord. I can’t just spout corporate nonsense and pretend like I’m saving the world like he does.”

Well, she has a point there. Kara looks around for something to distract Cat with, or to soothe her. The alcohol is all back out in the office, but there’s still a mini-freezer that Kara uses to store a variety of ice packs and some of the face products Cat uses that she doesn’t entirely understand. 

“Would this help?” Kara asks. It’s one of those gel eye masks that won’t smudge Cat’s perfect makeup. Her eyelids are a dusky pink that makes her eyes brighter, that little bit more predatory. There’s a shimmer of gold to it too, something precious that Kara wishes she was able to touch, but that’s not her job. That’s not her life. 

Cat cracks one eye before scrunching her face in annoyance. “I don’t have a headache,” she points out, irritation crackling and snapping in her tone. “I’m just doubting my own brilliance.”

“Well, what if I told you how, um, brilliant you are?” Kara suggests. She turns in the limited space, kneeling in front of the chaise. “I mean, I’m no Supergirl or anything--”

Cat snorts. Right. They’re going to have to talk about that again sometime soon. 

“But I bet I can think of some things that would make you feel like promoting your new product,” Kara continues, before her courage wavers altogether. 

“Well?” Cat says after a minute. She’s reclining on that velvet like she’s playing Cleopatra on Broadway, and as a look it really works for her. The white dress she’s wearing for the launch is a dream made out of fabric. It clings to every line and those subtle curves that Kara could trace blindfolded by now. Bare legs, the killer heels kicked off the minute the door closed behind them. Cat can’t bear them, but she won’t go without them. There’s a sparkle of a ruby in the delicate necklace resting against her throat, and of course the statement earrings match, nestled in amongst those honey-blonde curls that take thirty minutes’ hard work to look completely natural. 

“Well, you’re the most powerful person in National City, for a start.” Kara notes the twitch of Cat’s lips. Approval. “And you’re about to blow Netflix and Hulu out of the water, all while promoting female directors, showcasing women of color, and generally shaking up a whole industry. That’s what you do, Ms Grant. You dive on in and change things. For the better.”

“Mmm,” Cat acknowledges.

“And I mean, of course they all want you on camera.” Cat’s fingers twitch, where they’re resting on her stomach. “You look… I mean you look how you look, and you have what’s the word? Um…”

“Presence,” Cat murmurs, opening her eyes again for a second. “I have presence.”

“Right!” Kara continues. “And charisma, and…”

“I don’t think they’re looking at my charisma,” Cat sighs, and she moves to sit up. Kara doesn’t think before reacting. Her hands shoot out and she’s gripping Cat gently by the upper arms. Soft, bare, toned upper arms that feel every bit as good as any glancing touch has always suggested. 

Uh oh. Danger, Kara Danvers. 

“Ms Grant, you basically invented this whole company. So you can go out there and tell them the next cool thing you’re giving to the world. And people will be glad you did.”

“Where did you come from?” Cat asks in response, and there’s something wondrous in her expression that Kara is more used to seeing while she’s wearing her suit and cape. “Is this why you stay, Kara? Because you really believe all those things you say?”

“It’s all true.”

“Is it? Or are you just trying to get this damn shoot over with?”

“No,” Kara promises. “It’s what I really think. Always has been. You must know that I, well, how much I admire you, Ms Grant.”

“You’re on your knees, I think you can call me Cat.”

“Oh, I can get up or--”

Cat leans forward just enough to capture Kara’s face in her hands, palms pressed flat against her cheeks. Somehow, that tender contact is more shocking than the kiss that follows. Suddenly, half of Kara’s idle daydream fantasies are coming true, and she has no idea what to do about that beyond tugging Cat a little closer and kissing back like both their lives might depend on it.

Kara feels Cat’s hands slip down to her shoulders, tugging her up and onto the chaise. It’s tempting to use her powers, but Kara opts for the kiss-punctuated process of laying down on the damn thing, all the better to let Cat stretch out on top of her. Kara’s well and truly pinned, despite her remarkable strength advantage, there’s nothing in the world right now that could make her move Cat off of her.

Until the timid knock on the door at least. A glance over her glasses as Cat huffs in frustration confirms that Winn is the unlucky messenger.

“Uh, Kara? It’s just we’re ready to go again, and there was something about the light shifting?”

Cat gets up in one smooth motion, and that makes it Kara’s turn for a frustrated little whine.

“We’ll be right out,” she says, standing up and smoothing out her shirt and pants. The motion of her hands draws an appreciative look from Cat, a slow drag of her eyes that makes Kara feel naked although she’s still fully clothed. “Tell them Ms Grant is almost ready.”

Winn wanders off and Kara moves back to Cat’s side. “You know, if you nail it first time we could get right back to what we were doing here. Unless, I don’t know, that was just to fix your nerves or something? I mean, I totally get it, and I’m totally cool with that, it’s just--”

Cat shuts her up with a searing kiss, her tongue flicking against Kara’s for a moment, and then it’s over again. Too soon. 

“I am going to go out there and remind everyone why I am the owner and creator of this company,” Cat says. “You are going to wait here, and if you decide to lose a layer while you do, I won’t be complaining.”

Kara blushes, but there’s no stopping her smile. 

“It goes without saying, Kara, but I’m saying it anyway: this is optional. This won’t affect your job, or anything we do at CatCo going forward, but you deserve to know that before it goes any further.”

“Thank you,” Kara says, kissing Cat on the cheek. “But seriously, go out there and get it done.”

“We can take a moment to--”

Kara starts to unbutton her pants, maintaining steady eye contact with Cat the whole time.

“Going now.” Cat’s voice is a little strangled, and she almost tries to go through the door without opening it first. Kara smirks as she hears the call for action, and by the time she’s down to her underwear, stretched out on the chaise, she can hear Cat rattling off her lines like there was never a problem.

Kathryn has barely called ‘wrap’ before the door thuds open, Cat stalking through it with only the briefest pause to kick it shut behind her.

“Done,” she announces, her eyes bright and her smile downright sinful. “Turns out I just needed motivation.”

Kara slips one bra strap off her shoulder and down her arm. “And you’re feeling motivated?”

“Yes,” Cat confirms, straddling Kara like she was made for the position. “Let me show you just how much.”


End file.
